Waking NightMare
by sugar-high pixie
Summary: Squeal to Insomia. Prowl delves deeper into Bumblebee's past, but some things were never meant to be uncovered.


Woot. So I is keeping with this one shot thing, that way I don't have a bunch of chapter cluttering and a new story to worry about. I'm having fun making Bee out to be dark, oh to mess with characters. Thanks for the support guys.

Squeal to Insomnia.

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Prowl was haunted by things he didn't understand. His sensei would say his circuits were clouded by negative thoughts, but he wasn't sure, what he had heard counted simply as negative. It weighed heavily on him.

He had made up his mind, he would never tell the others. There were some things that did not be understood by the others, but still there were things he needed to understand. Personally, if he was going to keep bumblebee's secret any longer, he had to understand all of it.

It wasn't easy, they were far removed from any advance technology like the Cybertron Archives, were he could have simply pulled any file that had been recorded ever with the ease of creating a wild spark. Here on earth, he had to wait for everyone at the base to clear out or the dead of night to even send a request.

And then there was the paper work. Prowl hated paper work, the forms. He forged them all with ease of course, claiming he was doing a pre dated history of the decepticons for the most boring reason possible, a census of unaccounted con weapons. The dates he was looking for or rather Bumblebee's creation date would have ruled them obsolete by now, so it didn't take long for his request to be approved.

When the chips came through the mainframe computer and in a tube the created a sizable hole in the ground of the human's park, he quickly explained he had picked up ancient scrolls to practice the art of meditation. That drove any of his team mates from even being remotely interested in what he may have found.

Bumblebee in particular was driven far, far away from bothering him and if he ever stuck his head around the door Prowl offered to teach him again how to become one with his inner spark.

There was a certain peace about not being bothered, but the silence was what disturbed him the most. He sprawled the tapes before him. They were old, pre dating the modern recording chips, but they still worked. They were in the form of pre recorded hologram message, mostly random star dates. He had a pile of 50 each with 100 data files each, but if there was one thing Prowl had, it was time.

He sorted them quietly, spending his days going through the files, trying to find anything with key words to what he was looking for.

Then it happened.

It had two months since he had taken on the insane project, but he had done it. It was an old chip, cracked in places, but as he placed it in its holder and the blue hologram appeared he knew it what he was looking for.

An older bot stared back at him, or rather the device he was meant to be talking to. The purple decepticon symbol betrayed his alliance, and Prowl waited as he began.

"The date-" The bot wheezed, "Is the sixth cycle in the 100th nano click of the third star date. It's about 1200 clicks till they come for me, to eradicate the last of us who worked on the project. I don't care anymore. I'm an old bot and my spark is going. We had abandoned the project long ago-"

The hologram wavered for a moment, but prowl waited, as the bot continued, "My name isn't important, because I doubt anyone will ever hear these final words. If you do, then you have found the last survivor of Project Delta 19."

Prowl felt his circuit board race, as he tried to keep his mind focused. The chip could give at any moment, he needed to be able to record all the data clearly.

"Project Delta 19, was originally ordered by the Grand Overlord Megatron, to be used in our war against the Autobots." He gave another rattling shake, as even his metal plates shook in their place, "My processor is going-can't function to well for audio systems-"

"It was his goal to create the ultimate solider. We tried to create new ones from prototypes, but each was a failure. They didn't imprint on us as their creators and always failed in their last mission." He paused again as if he was straining to hear something, "Sorry-I'm waiting for them-I want this to be finished before I go."

"I was sadly the one, who figured out the why. We could create bots with no other purpose to follow orders, but they wouldn't be able to comprehend the orders. Megatron said it was the point, when we submitted our findings-but Starscream-his second in command pointed out our logic." He paused and gave another rattle, "Megatron appointed him supervisor of our division, and Starscream pushed us to find a way to make them comprehend."

"Six cycles passed. No success." He paused again, "And then we had a sparkling. It was without its creators, who decided they would try again. It was from a different department, but we took it on. It imprinted quickly, it learned, and it felt for us. We had established a link."

"We tried our phase two, implanting a killer instinct, but it couldn't understand why we wanted it to hurt. It had been raised to be a working bot, for menial labor, so again a failure. That was the first, as you can guess 17 sparklings followed. All failed if not our second phase, then the third and final phase." His audio wheezed in an out again.

"They wanted to terminate the project. Starscream had grown bored, with other ambitions. The war was still dragging on, and the Autobots had the upperhand. I'm ashamed, it became my obsession to finish the project-" He shook his head, "I hope when I reach the sparkwell I'll be able to understand what I've done and hope that it will bring some good-"

"I tried one last thing. I had spent time as an Autobot agent, before the war had begun. A very long time ago, but since I had no previous record I was able to infiltrate Cybertron. My goal was to find an autobot sparkling." He laughed now, "It was really simple when I thought about it, it had driven my processor to pieces. Autobot sparklings were taught both combat and other skills. Cons were bred for one or the either and that is where we fell short. Their processors, our sparklings, were not created well enough in order to comprehand all our actions or maybe they understood to well."

"Regardless, I stole a young sparkling. I knew his creator. A femme bot who we had once-had a past together. She was very happy, and raising her creation. I don't know what she had planned for the bot to be, but I know not long after words, she destroyed her spark at the lost of him."

There was a long pause, as the old bot clenched his fists and struggled to continue on.

"The sparkling, I cleared his memory board of his original creator and made him imprint on me. I trained him so he held no side, and no idenity of his own. He lived to have my approval of every action-" His audio wheezed again, "He was perfect. He was what I had been striving to create. He passed phase one and two with flying colors. I set him for phase three, the one's no other could do."

"He did it rather well. I told him destroy your creator." The bot shook his head, "It took them weeks to patch me up. The sparkling had these blasters, like targeted volts, could have won the war I think with to much ease. He almost destroyed my spark-"

The old bot shifted the camera to a blackned patch of metal, "Its finally going and maybe with some luck before they get here."

The bot was quiet for a long time again, as he wheezed. He was struggling with himself, sstruggling with what he had done, as a dying bot.

"Then something changed in my creation-he had no one to give him orders. I tracked him down, it took another five cycles, but I did it. He had left some serious wreckage, but no one noticed-it was a war after all, bots were dying left and right-" He shook his head, "He didn't know who I was and I told-he didn't speak very well, I didn't have his audio processor developed."

"I told him blast a rock."

"He didn't do it."

"I told him blast yourself."

A pause.

"He didn't even blink his orbits. So I blasted him, hard."

There was a second pause as the next words haunted Prowl.

"I should have destroyed him, but my creation-I couldn't bring myself to do that. I thought of the femmebot-I though of what I had done-I should have destroyed him."

The bot took his time, and Prowl wondered if that was the end, but he suddenly continued.

"I cleared his memory board, and re worked him."

"I made it so he had always been a bot without a creator-and then put him somewhere he'd be found." The old bot wheezed again laughing, "I watched him, he grew up again with the autobots-some main care center more sparklings misplaced by the war."

"The war, was something that was quickly coming to an end. Delta 19, that's what we called him, I kept track of his progress."

"He grew much slower than the others, because of upgrades we had done to him, I had done to him. It took longer for him to understand concepts, basic concepts, but his new caretakers had time. He grew, learned to his use his audios-I can thankfully say I do not regret not developing them-"

"You may think me even more heartless, but his voice was so shrill. He had such confidence, but he hardly knew what he was capable of-. It's still in him. I lost track, when he ran off with some cargo ship-. It was for the best."

He took another audio gasp, 'I think the end is almost here. I destroyed all previous recordings of subject delta 19. Unless my creation, remembers, which I must remind who watching this-is highly possible-you can never take a bots memories away-you can hide them-but never truly make them disappear."

Dissapear, Prowl shuddered at what Bee had recalled, it was a part of him.

"I'm almost there now.' The bot murmured, "Subject Delta 19-find creation-destroy-destroy-file 12-345.567, case 3456.g.6789-00001."

That was all as the tape finally gave out and prowl held the small disc in his hands. He crushed it, without a second thought, as he quietly moved the others pack into the tube in which they came.

He climbed into his tree, as he tried to stop his whirring processor.

If bee-remembered-they were in danger. But-he had shown no signs, and bee was much younger-appeared much younger than any of them-.

The thoughts were broken, but there was one thing Prowl knew he still would not do. He would never tell Bumblebee, he would never tell the others, and he was going to find the file.

The last words of the dying con.

He was going to find a way to make sure Bee was always just Bee.

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wow. dark. edgy.

suggestions welcome.


End file.
